A Trip To The Park

Cocooned in nadirs of black Fern slumbered, silence swaddled her in perfect rest. Adrenaline now spent, she and her pillow fell in harmony with ease. The depths of her two-hour nap waned slowly stripped away by; tt, tt, … tt, …tt. Faraway sounds detached yet another layer of rest. Beneath her eyelids, the dense void of unconsciousness now swam with swirling tides of color, as neurons fired. Hot breath rested on her neck, prickling fine, downy hairs, bursting her listlessness, leaving her most aware. Fully awake but eyes closed, she battled panic to keep her breathing even, until that familiar touch of wet-cold tapped her chin, followed by Dane’s front paws and whimper. Bringing them to where our story began a trip to the park.

 

 -------------Ted and Jamie split ways,-------------------

                                        

All leads and ideas were exhausted. Ted returned Jamie to his own vehicle. The corporal would gratefully head to his house. He’d collect clean cloths and forty winks. Once the make-shift team had split-up, each would follow their own leads and their own line-of-reasoning. As a rule, I.A. is seen as the enemy. However, after graduation, Jamie’s training officer had been a much younger Sergeant Ted Spears, and the two men have been tight ever since. Often, they use each other as a sounding board. For now, Ted would head back to his office to comb over his statements looking for either a common thread or that standout element. Either way, Ted’s afternoon would be full. Jamie, on the other hand, was having a wild card moment, seeing how he was; tired, hungry, and a smart man. He took the long way home via the park. 

 

Jamie couldn’t help but wonder what Fern might be doing at this very moment. His mind danced around the notion of what she might be up to; sleeping, painting, cooking-after all the man was starving. As he rounded the corner to the art school, the park came into focus. Jamie busted out in a full belly-laugh. The woman had built a snowman, and this figure looked like his father. She had begun a second snowperson, that he assumed would be Edith, his mother. He really never intended to stop, but now that Fern and three neighborhood kids had seen him, what else could he do.

 

“Don’t you ever sleep,” She asked.

 

“I was going to ask you the same question,” Jamie said, “Anyway, I was going to make a stop at ‘Mac’s’ for a short stack.”

 

“What, that’s ridicules’ I make the lightest, fluffiest pancakes for miles. Plus, I have real maple syrup from home.”

 

“Well then, we better hop to it cause I’m starving,” Jamie said.

 

“Okay, you three, you’re on your own. I’ll catch you all later, I have a date.”

 

The three kids grumbled at the loss of their star designer, but they recuperated quickly as a snowball fight took its place. Jamie was just about to close the door leading to her stairs when a snowball pelted him in the back of the head. The man spun on his heels, but the guilty parties were no were to be seen. 

As the outer door closed, a falsetto could be heard saying, “I have a date.” 

Followed by an even higher voice repeating, “no, I have a date.”

Jamie stifled a laugh, but he could not help himself as he said, “no, I have the date.” 

As they entered the small apartment, Fern pointed to the dining table chair. Jamie found a seat in front of a masterfully etched design. It felt like glass, the only disturbance in this cherry-stained beauty were the four pine trees. Each pine had its own corner. They narrowed to a fine point giving it a starburst effect.

 

In the corner of the room, Fern had quickly hung up her snow gear. She was an exciting combination of woman and child. She had an ease about her that Jamie admired. He no longer looked at the table as he studied this open-faced book that paced in front of him.

 

Cabinet doors opened and closed, while ingredients were assembled, and in minutes a tall order of pancakes rested in the center of the table. Jamie couldn’t remember when he had enjoyed a meal better. “I could make this a habit.”

 

“Well, then, after your shift, how about French toast tomorrow, about 7:30?” 

Author's Note

no time, maybe tonight

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

love it .. so packed with your poetic background and the humor releases all that tension built to this point .. i'm like ... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh deep cleansing breath ;) and the sparks of love burn more brightly .. great chapter .. you book is a fine read for me ma'am! Onward! :)))))))))))))))
E.

[Cherrie Palmer]

Well the good or the bad news is this march has a final end:)

[Einstein Noodle]

:) .................

[barleygirl]

LOVE the opening . . . my favorite part of your writing, when you fuse poetry & prose. Then you go to your more businesslike-sounding storytelling, which is a nice juxtaposition. In fact, I've kinda emulated your style here, since I wanted my book to be full of poetic prose, yet I can see how a storyline needs energy to pull the reader along, so we can't do it ALL in flowing poetic prose. It's been an interesting experience to read how you do it, then figure out how for me to do it in my own mix. Thank you for being a huge inspiration to me on this book! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Cherrie Palmer]

I think about what I love to read(who). I love the graceful manner of Steinbeck and the fast no nonsense of Hemingway, and the ease of which Waldon is read, and the wacky characters of Christy.
I take what I like to see and give it a shake, I've written this way forever. It's jyst taken me time to figure out the why.
I think being a nature lover helps. I see it in your writing as well capturing a moment in time as a backdrop or even center stag and then let life happen.
What could be better.

[barleygirl]

I love watching your journey becuz your goals are similar to mine, wanting to fuse a poetic approach to intelligent no-nonsense prose. It's a tricky balance & we will all strike it differently!

[Cherrie Palmer]

I want that see, hear, feel, blended together and iced over with ruminations.
I don't know what it is I end up with lol
But that is the hope,
I do see us as the same side of the coin. We search for the same effects in our craft and reading you is always a joy.

[Cherrie Palmer]

I am happy to report I finally wrote a final chapter to this drawn out affair

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I want to bring you to my class and have you demonstrate writing intense description....you do it so well.
j.

[Cherrie Palmer]

I like to start small with one detail, then let the focus fan out.
It's a nice way for me to stall the opening, before I start slinging elbows:)
I had to go to Walmart in the middle of my chapter, oh well it'll keep.

[Cherrie Palmer]

I bet if you lined 3 of us up we would all approach it in a different manner.

I think of it like this, I take a small moment and dress it big.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and you dress it beautifully...